


Four Meetings

by winteryKite



Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic), Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, canon-typical abominations of science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 02:17:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20987180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winteryKite/pseuds/winteryKite
Summary: Prince Lotor of the Galra follows an odd twist in space and ends up on a strange planet with an absurd quintessence font. The first being he meets is a robot princess.He meets her a lot, actually, while trying to figure out how the hell this place even works and why it is like that.





	1. The first meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Originally for Girl Genius Event Week 2018, Day 1  
Now for Girl Genius Event Week 2019 instead, and incomplete. Too many tags to really count, but many.
> 
> A good amount of this is Phoenixyfriend's fault.

The first time Lotor meets the Princess Anevka is after a long trek through experimental space that could have just spat all of them out in the middle of nowhere with nothing to show for it, but between an unusually high quintessence harvest from the Altean colony and Nilorak's death, the shot at a change of scenery was as good as any.

They hit jackpot, because of course they did. Quarter a full Daibazaal Solar Rotation the container of surplus quintessence allows them to go starboard in the sixth and eighth dimensions, drawn in by something, and lo and behold, they come across a star that is not on any of the maps.

What is far more interesting, however, is that the quintessence sensor (dismissed as useless by Zarkon and Haggar, after all, the presence of quintessence on a planet is evidenced by it being alive) is showing several of the orbiting planets positively pulsing with it, more than every other place he has inspected through it. Haggar would love to have this knowledge, but she won't get it. Lotor found it first.

Of the several planets in a pre-terraforming inhabitable zone, they go for the one with most overt signs of a civilization for the simple reason that that one has the biggest actual font of quintessence Lotor has ever come across. Nothing like this has ever been in any of the scientific reports he's combed through, except in the ones about the rift on Daibazaal itself. Only in this case, the rift appears stable, and instead infusing the entire planet with quintessence without consuming it and pulling it into the quintessence field.

Lotor expects to find either an enlightened society that will provide intriguing technological advances and a shtick or three he can pull on other planets, and a potential bolt hole, or the ruins of an enlightened society with some mistrustful but ultimately controllable remnants who can be wrung dry as needs be, and a potential bolt hole.

From the number of ruined structures, he guesses the latter.

Zethrid grins when she hears that -- after all, places like that tend to have things to fight. It's her element and speciality, that's why she's one of his generals, and so far transit has been long and uneventful. Boredom is a dangerous state for Zethrid to be in.

Ezor has been bouncing around for a while now, because while she prefers infiltrating a functioning construction for information, ruins have their own kind of challenge. Contrary to popular belief, space caterpillars need be dodged on stealth missions. They cling, and get everywhere.

Acxa has not dropped her perfect deadpan since Relpek-413, but remarks that whatever is down there, they'll be able to deal with it. She also remarks that the readouts during the navigational movement along the sixth dimension were odd.

They agree there's likely even more unexplored space in that direction, even if the quintessence got them to this set of coordinates.

There appears to be a settlement around the largest quintessence rift and a fleet of floating hulk ships, -- Ezor remarks they look like  _ balloons _ , which is when they lose the last scrap of imposing looks they had in his eyes -- but instead they opt for the next-closest large settlement with an intact keep. That's where local leaders tend to huddle up, believing themselves safe until something bigger and badder (usually the Galra) come along and show them that most there is to a good defense is having an excellent and unrelenting offense. (Stealth is a part of a good offense, it allows you to attack from unexpected vantage points)

When they touch down on the planet, they already have company.

A delicate robot decked out in decadent amounts of finery, really, what  _ is _ it with these people who neglect practicality to that extent. It is followed by four locals in slightly more utilitarian but still rather looks-over-sense clothing. Not a single piece of armor. They're carrying some sort of device the robot is attached to. Form over function! It's a disgrace. No doubt that whoever sent it believes it to be an impressive toy, and they might be right if they were dealing with noncombatants or other lesser people.

"Let me guess, Warrior Prince from a Long Lost Civilization?" the robot muses. "Come to see what lies beyond your parent's realm? Please tell me it's for knowledge; love and glory are such  _ trite _ reasons these days."

'Let  _ me _ guess,' the robot had said. 'Tell  _ me _ '. That's an actual person there, and someone with power in their own right, not a fancy doll or servant. Nice in to the mythology, too, Lotor won't complain.

"Something very much like that," he replies with the best of his dashing smiles. "I am Prince Lotor of the Intergalactic Galra Empire. With whom do I have the pleasure?"

The robot's expression does not shift physically, but Lotor suddenly has the nagging feeling that it's a familiar, and not good smile he's on the receiving end of, as they answer: "Princess Anevka of Sturmhalten."

She waves at the mountains surrounding the landing site.

"Welcome to Europa, Prince Lotor."

If the Princess Anevka has any doubts regarding Lotor's heritage, she does not voice them, and Lotor knows better than to call attention to that.

Or to the fact that the servant who is called upon to organize the little details that the higher ranks have no time for materialized out of thin air much like he's seen Ezor do, and moves dead silent like her, too. Lotor knows that type --  _ that _ 's an assassin. They might actually need to be on their guard.

In her father's name, she extends an invitation to stay at Castle Sturmhalten for a while while they acclimatize to the local culture, and, perhaps, they can point him in the direction of what he is seeking. What she does not voice, but Lotor surmises, is that they want some of his technology in turn. Well, he's prepared for that.

Prince Aaronev Wilhelm the Sixth is unarmored and decked out like the rest of them, and his initial interest in the group fades after initial inquiries about a Citadel of Silver Light and its Eternal Lady, even if Lotor thinks he's improvised an implied connection quite admirably for something he's never even heard of before.

The Princess Anevka's brother, Prince Aaronev Tarvek, is, while polite, a mixture between utterly disinterested and suspecting. She waves it off, remarking that Tarvek has little interest in the military and is more art-inclined. Some people are lost causes.

The Princess Anevka has taken it upon herself to lead the cultural exchange by assigning Zethrid a few people she can spar with, Ezor someone just as giddy and just as acrobatic, Acxa the assassin delegate, and herself occupying quite an amount of his time. She appears to be fascinated by the honour system of the Galra (ha.), its reach, technological advances, and enchanted by both the spaceship and their armor, and every so often when she goes off a highly scientific tangent, Lotor simultaneously struggles to keep up, and has the feeling he is standing at the precipice of something vast.

"Do give us a heads-up before your Emperor decides to annex us," she quips. "Oh, is this the heads-up already?"

Lotor  _ does _ learn a great amount about this planet and the local structure. Things he has concluded from orbit include the local feudal society (keeps), a recent semi-apocalyptic event (the sheer amount of ruined settlements as well as their patterns), and that whoever is running the airship fleet is a person of power.

The existence of something called  _ Sparks _ sounded interesting for about five minutes before he realized that "savant scientists whose creations cannot be recreated by normal means and go against all known laws of nature" is really just a shorthand for "sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic", even if there is an insistence that Spark and Scientist are not, in fact, interchangeable.

This comes to a head when Anevka offers a mechanical creature, about the length of his lower arm (small eyes and ears,webbed feet, big snout, long body and tail; and a key jutting out at the base of its neck).

"Do feel free to inspect its workings, Prince Lotor. But do mind that previous owners have left behind… contingencies," she says with that perpetual smile of hers, and leaves.

The creature, when wound, behaves disturbingly fluid for something that turns out to be clockwork. There is no discernable motherboard, nothing carrying information beyond the very delicate and frankly in some places somewhat odd clockwork --

(he feels a part of his mind veer to a side he never thought of as possible, and it's a feeling like he just got clocked on the back of his head, even with no one behind him)

* * *

Acxa mentions that the delegate assassin has told her that the Princess Anevka's body is a sparkwork prosthesis, built by her brother after a laboratory accident.

A great amount of people, before thinking 'aliens', will think 'constructs' when seeing them, and that can backfire. Well, xenophobia can usually be dealt with by a show of strength.

The person in charge of the airship fleet is one Baron Klaus Wulfenbach, and the Princess Anevka paints a picture of a man rising beyond his station in the aftermath of devastation, rallying the survivors behind him and beginning the long, arduous work of rebuilding Europa, and holding it with an iron fist for the past eighteen planetary solar rotations. Years, years is the local word. The sort of success story a lesser Galra would eat up, but Lotor knows what people in power are like, and he suspects that none of this ruling family is very happy about someone who just straight up gobbled up their territory. (Filed for later.)

Ezor, in the meantime, starts casing the castle and its various hidden passages. This is a family that will have some interesting (not for Lotor, but for people Lotor might want to deal with at a later point in time) skeletons in the closet. Some hidden doors she reports she has trouble getting through because of both mechanic and electric alarms, but the fifth day she returns with a report of a hidden city below the castle, filled entirely with women and gigantic spiders. Strange machines filled with biomass they care for, and harsh combat drills. She'd pondered taking Zethrid there to blow off some steam until she saw them catch a surface local and unceremoniously execute him, and then feed him to the spiders. Ezor shudders.

"They said stuff about an Eternal Lady and a City of Silver Light they want to return to," she continues under her breath, translator off. The walls have ears. "Did you know a young woman came to visit the castle yesterday?"

"No," Lotor replies. "Why, and why should I care?"

"No one does, and when the white women showed up, I decided to follow. There's a room with a throne-machine thing, they put her in, prayed, referred to some capital-E-Eternal-capital-L-Lady, and zapped the girl. She's toast. Zap! Just like that. Went and followed the white women and that's when I found the city under the castle."

Ezor frowns.

"I don't like this, something's fishy here."

Lotor nods. "We don't know the criteria for selection, and I expect you all to be able to handle yourself against an amount of enemies. This sounds like blackmail material, however, and I want to know how big that lever really is, not only how big Aaronev thinks it is. Time to check out the rest of this planet."

And since Prince Aaronev has not much further interest in them, and Lotor has little interest in taking and holding this city or much information to gain from messing with its local ruler at the moment, he thanks them for their hospitality and leaves it to Acxa to handle the details of departure.

"Do allow me to offer you some further assistance, Prince Lotor," the Princess Anevka interjects at some point during the proceedings. "My lady-in-waiting Livia -- your General Acxa knows her already -- is quite the expert on the quirks of the different locales of these lands, and besides she's always wanted to travel some more. She'll be an excellent guide."

A local guide is something he can work with, and under certain circumstances they can come in fairly handy. He also has no illusions that part of her actual mission is to keep an eye on Lotor and his crew, but she can't be everywhere at once, and all of his generals are very much capable of acting alone, even if Acxa is best at it. This ulterior motive, however, also means that she will be somewhat invested in being actually useful.

Lotor has no doubt as to Ezor's ability to not get caught.

He has no doubt as to Zethrid's discipline and self-control.

He has no doubt as to Acxa's ability to improvise herself through a solo mission, for example pretending she is a local construct with no master and get employed by the Baron Wulfenbach so she can spy on him, and gather some information they need an inside view and source for. They've successfully pulled that sort of gambit, for one.

Assassin delegate Livia, however, has the guts to shoot that down. Unless she has a skill set that the Baron is actively missing from his repertoire of empire delegates, her chances of getting herself positioned close enough to gather information they couldn't get elsewhere are slim.

"You're here for technology, right? Why don't you try Beetleburg? It's a university town, so between the tyrant being amenable towards constructs, the students, and the student sparks, you'd have no problem slipping in."

(They do, however, grab one of the Baron's smaller airships. It gives them some credence and allows them to get around easier if they want to be somewhat inconspicuous. Zethrid merrily  _ disposes _ of the previous crew.)


	2. The second meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where my inability to actually write people and shenanigans killed the fic, so part of it will be in bullet-list form.

Far be it from Lotor to disparage alternative military strategies -- just kidding, he not only made a hobby of dismantling them, but also wrote the book on it. Twice.

The rampaging, uncontrollable, larger than anything in the vicinity war robot would be a thing of utter beauty if it still had a master to look good for. Which it has not. Which is a disgrace, but he can work with that. What he absolutely cannot work with is that it just slammed him face first into the muck.

Lotor hears the "Get AWAY" from somewhere, is a backflip and half a jump away --

The robot's foot comes down where he'd impacted --

Ezor is working on something in the neck area, with Acxa, who has much less secure footing, Zethrid is dismantling the other leg --

The assassin delegate is gone --

Lotor wipes the remaining muck from his forehead, and bolts forward, swords drawn.

"OTHAR TRYGGVASSEN, _ Gentleman Adventurer _, to the rescue!" comes from somewhere to the left.

An eye-searing blue beam --

The robot stops, glowing --

Zethrid jumps back. Ezor and Acxa somewhere above --

A visored -- soldier? No uniform -- does a perfect landing in front of the robot, Acxa in his arms. She has that expression that means she is going to murder something, and preferably you, in about 1.3 ticks. He lets her down, and when he opens his mouth to say something, Acxa punches him square in the face, hard enough to send him flying.

"Foul!" he yells.

That's when the glowing robot starts emitting a high-pitched whirr-hum and bursts into an inordinate amount of smaller, about waist-high robots.

Great, just great. What is wrong with this place.

Six against one is nasty odds, but these smaller ones have less bulk to withstand his strikes.

It turns out the visored soldier and the assassin delegate opted to join the fray, and between the six of them the miniature robots are neutralized, even with the visored soldier dodging two attempts to knife him from Acxa's direction.

"Well, that didn't quite work…," he remarks, inspecting the blaster. "Faulty shrinking mechanism…"

"Who do you _ think _ you are, interfering in a battle like that?!" Lotor manages to grind out. Acxa places a hand on his shoulder and subtly squeezes it.

The visored soldier looks at him, raises his eyebrows and then the visor, before he replies: "Why, you appeared to be in a bit of a bind, especially the lovely lady with the knives--"

His eyes twitch towards where Acxa is standing, and he gulps, before catching himself.

"-- so I, OTHAR TRYGGVASSEN, _ Gentleman Adventurer _ , decided to give you young people a hand. It is not always that you see a handsome _ son _ of an evil mad scientist and his sidekicks --"

"Who's he calling a sidekick?" Ezor remarks, aside to Zethrid.

"Oh, wrong word?" the intruder inquires. "Minions?"

The _ nerve _.

He blinks. "Henchwomen…?"

Next to Lotor, Acxa must be holding an expression of profound disappointment, but no one is budging.

"Ohmygosh it's really Othar Tryggvassen, _Gentleman Adventurer_!!" assassin delegate Livia shrieks. She looks way too ecstatic, but also took the attention off them.

"Allow me, head proofreader of the semi-official Othar Tryggvassen, _ Gentleman Adventurer _ fanclub, to elaborate!"

She drops her voice and some of her posture, almost conspiratorially, but still loud enough for everyone to understand everything said.

"The fella with the white hair is a warrior prince from a lost civilization, and the other three are his most trusted generals. You have gravely offended them by not only interfering in their battle, attempting to 'rescue' the lady with the knives -- that's why she punched you -- and then downplaying their positions."

The intruder has the decency to look vaguely mortified.

"My most sincere apologies, your highness, generals."

Acxa finally takes her hand from Lotor's shoulder, and Lotor has caught himself some. No disgraceful flipouts to see here.

He makes a show of looking at Acxa, at Ezor, at Zethrid, each in turn, and waiting for their response. Acxa shoots one last disparaging look before, slowly and deliberately, nodding. Ezor nods as well. Zethrid glares, but nods with a scoff.

Only then, Lotor replies to the self-proclaimed _ Gentleman Adventurer _: "Consider it forgotten."

"Ha!" he replies. "I knew we could come to terms. Well then, let me not tarry any longer, adventure calls!"

* * *

"So… 'head proofreader of the fanclub'. Really?" Ezor asks later.

Assassin delegate Livia shrugs. "Semi-official, but yes. And I'm really good at finding misspellings. So you met the guy, you want to join, right?"

"Uh… I'll think about it?"

Assassin delegate Livia does not ask about the 'son of an evil mad scientist' part, and, somewhere deep down, Lotor appreciates the discretion even if he knows that she's just gathering ammunition.

* * *

The second time Lotor meets the Princess Anevka is at a formal dinner that he actually got some Professors to attend, and not only their grad students.

(That first attempt had been somewhat of a disaster, between the water fountain in the marketplace perambulating through town and pouring some very sticky spark-concoction everywhere, and about half of the attendees turning out to be student heroes and taking potshots at each other so they would be the one to claim victory over the rogue fountain. Both Ezor and Zethrid spent the rest of the night, and really the rest of their stay in Beetleburg in Ezor's case, as the centre of attention).

But even this time, the tyrant Dr Tarsus Beetle has declined the invitation and sent his secretary instead. She's well-spoken and composed enough to be pleasant and entirely forgettable company until she starts thinking too hard about something, so he can't even inquire about the more interesting parts of the tyrant Dr Beetle's research and see if she slips up. Lotor has to confess, it's an effective method, even if he is annoyed at being thwarted.

It is at this point that the assassin delegate Livia informs him that the Princess Anevka has responded to the invitation in the affirmative and will attend this occasion.

He didn't--

"Being a spark herself, she has some insights into the level of scientific research you're addressing," the assassin delegate Livia says. What she means is 'I see you trolling for input, let's derail that a bit, shall we?'

  


The Princess Anevka makes her grand entrance about -- ten minutes -- after the assassin delegate Livia thought to inform him of her intention to attend. 

If he thought the dress she greeted him when he arrived on this backwards planet was ostentatious, this one has a myriad of small lights woven into the fabric. She's a walking target, and all eyes are on her. The Professoressa Schulhoff, semitheoretical applied astrophysics, audibly gasps.

"Oh, I heard about the treatise on pressure calibration in a vacuum and just _ had _ to make time for this," is the Princess Anevka's excuse.

Later she will pull him aside and ask about the antics of the local student heroes.

"Why, jealous?" Lotor quips. He expected her to laugh. She doesn't. She does not drop her smile, not completely, but there's something wistful conveyed about the way she places her hand on her chest and says: "Oh, a young lady of my pedigree can't well romp around with rogue clanks, constructs, and sparks all day. Politics, you know..."

Yes, she is jealous. More importantly, though, she just threw one hell of a curve ball.

"You might like it among the Galra," Lotor hears himself saying. "We tend to combine it. Politics are less tedious if everyone is already tired out from taking potshots at each other on the way there. You'd roll straight over them."

The Princess Anevka raises an eyebrow, and excuses herself to talk with the secretary who... proceeds to talk to her very animatedly.

One of the professors accosts him with somewhat of a bemused expression.

"Truly a marvel of science, that clank. Closest we ever got to Van Rijn's muses," he remarks.

"The Princess?"

The professor makes a noise somewhere between a scoff and a sigh that ends up sounding like the saddest deflating balloon. "The Princess Anevka died last year. Laboratory accident, terrible stuff. Her brother, in his grief, tried to replicate her. Put her brain in that catafalque, but there's only so much science can do. "

* * *

  * This is where the rest of the Beetleburg shenanigans happen
  * It includes shopping for clothes
  * Assassin delegate Livia _insists_ they get something other than that "stinky armor that makes you stick out like a sore nail, at least _try_ to blend in--"
  * Excuse you
  * The armor is coated in a way that it doesn't absorb anything that could give off an odor
  * And you keep pressing the importance of being on our guard, why are you now pressing for eschewing our armor
  * Pick a line and stick to it, red fire!
  * They've been here for far too long, the lingo has been rubbing off on them
  * Look what you've made them do!
  * So they all go to a tailor
  * Mind you, the Galra have no concept of fashion
  * Assassin delegate Livia and the tailor have different opinions on practicality until Livia turns on her heel and threatens to go to a different one
  * At which point the tailor changes tune
  * The preposterously prosaic dressing Galra crew looks on with varying degrees of fascination and irritation
  * The tailor provides a service, they're not here to _contradict_ _you_
  * Or your specifications for that matter
  * But here we all are
  * But mostly it's the fact that they _contradicted both Prince Lotor and assassin delegate Livia_
  * luckily, galra armor is sleek and can be mostly concealed
  * Assassin Delegate Livia remarks that it would "utterly ruin the dashing prince look" but that's only if he's looking for a lay
  * (He's not, thank you very much)
  * (Lotor's seen this around, what _is_ it with people just waltzing around with their vital spots on display)
  * (The concept of entertainment beyond ringfights are still somewhat alien even if he is familiar with the notion)
  * So they get clothes to Blend In Better among the student crew and other places they might end up visiting
  * Zethrid gets a swishy skirt along with her trousers and she's _living_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "preposterously prosaic dressing" is a suggestion from DocMatoi, thank you very much. Full line ""a preposterously prosaic dresser, they wore the first thing that came into their hands of a morning with not a single thought whatsoever being given to its appearance."


	3. The third meeting

The third time Prince Lotor meets the Princess Anevka is in the secret public laboratory of Dr Pataki, tracking down the errant Dr DeBill.

It had started like this:

"First we'll take the airship to Bucharest," Jevrem Kovac, seismographic meteorology, starts suggesting, only to be immediately interrupted by Theophania Pfaff, ornithomechanics.

"Why not Mechanicsburg?"

"What is it with you and Mechanicsburg? I swear, every single trip--"

"Not true!"

"Yes, it is!"

"No, it isn't! It's just that Mechanicsburg is closer to--"

"No, it's not! It's on the other side of the pass, and besides the route is haunted--"

Theophania scoffs. "Haunted airship route? Have you been drinking with Petria again--"

"That was one time!"

"Five in the past two months, actually," Ezor interjects.

"Besides the point!" Jevrem and Theophania both shoot back with mirrored dirty looks.

"Anyway. Land route from Mechanicsburg to the presumed site of Doctor Pataki's double-secret laboratory: first through the Geisterwald, then over Red Tower Pass, whereas we can just take the mud walkers up the Arges from Bucharest and get there in half the time. Camp the night, have the entirety of Saturday to dig up the laboratory, and come back Sunday, easy as pie!"

Jevrem squints at Theophania. "Why are you so eager to mess with the travel plan, weren't you supposed to help your father recalibrate his Archimedes Mill?"

"Why do you think I want to be as far away from Adjud as possible?"

"He'll get you at the end of the semester at the very latest, you do know that?"

Theophania rolls her eyes. "Not this week is the entire point."

Then she whips around to Ezor with a wide grin: "Say, Ezor, you're free this weekend, right? The more, the merrier! And Zethrid can come, too!"

"Now wait a second!" Jevrem interjects. "You can't just--"

"Oh, shush you. You're just sore that she beat you, seven out of five, in an arm-wrestling contest, and then loudly proclaimed her superiority, which is just the truth," Theophania deadpans back.

"She didn't have to rub it in!"

Ezor ponders. Not for herself, _ she _ is going to get a break from stuffy Beetleburg, but there's the airship they nabbed a while back…

"Yknow, should I ask Lotor if we can borrow his airship? Less travel time, more exploring time, _ and _ less chance of getting ambushed at night!"

"Prince Lotor has an-- wait, yes, of course he has. He's an actual damn prince. Of course he has an airship," Theophania remarks.

"It _ would _ cut down travel time drastically. We might even be able to drop Theophania off at her father's--"

"Don't you dare."

"Do you think he'd lend it to… us?" Jevrem asks.

"Maybe?" Ezor answers. "If Acxa or Livia keep an eye on it, maybe!"

Zethrid, having ground another project to scraps between her hands, jumps at the chance to get out and kick some ass. Forsaken laboratories tend to be infested with monsters.

Assassin delegate Livia and Acxa both have plans for the weekend, even if Livia has time to drop them off and pick them back up so the airship isn't unattended while they're off digging up the laboratory.

But Lotor has been running headfirst into some sort of mental wall for the past lunar rotation, so they both decide that an excursion will do him good.

They take his airship, which is great, because the Professoressa Schulhoff has threatened additional homework _ and _ being barred from the planetarium brainstorming and building sessions for anyone skipping the Friday noon class, and that anyone just so happens to include both Theophania and Jevrem.

That was Tuesday.

So when, Saturday noon, Jevrem falls through the wall he had leaned against while eating, to reveal a secret passage, there is really nothing speaking against following it. Certainly not even the mutant Mimmobats pouring out of the recent opening and towards the food smell.

(Taking Ezor along was the best thing they could've done -- she's the only one capable of not only dodging the frankly preposterous amount of traps but also the motion sensors. She plain doesn't register to those while she's invisible. And there are. So. Many. Traps. Everywhere.)

What none of them really anticipated that the tunnel did not lead back to the surface, or even a hangar of escape vehicles and then back to the surface, or a portal, or _ anything _ that would facilitate a getaway.

It leads to another laboratory. With breathable air, even, although the smell of something having rotten away a long time ago still lingers. Most traps had been triggered by a few adventurous mimmoths.

"What, no hideous beast we can fight? What a waste," comes from Zethrid.

"Depends on what you consider a hideous beast -- for me it _ definitely _ includes Dr Pataki's work on mathematheology," Jevrem says with a disgusted face.

"Can you punch it?"

"Probably?"

"Does it punch back?"

"Hopefully not."

"Then it's not a hideous beast worth fighting."

"Haaang on, mathematheology?! Give that here, I've been _ looking everywhere for a remaining copy of that _\--" Theophania yells and bolts over to Jevrem to grab the papers. Jevrem holds it out of her reach.

He yells back: "I found it first!"

"Yes, but you also referred to it as a _hideous_ _beast_, showing your lack of the understanding of beauty of Pataki's work, and _I_ am at least capable of appreciating it--"

Ezor shares a _ look _ with Zethrid, because Lotor has disappeared into the other side of the laboratory, looking at the colourful and sometimes bubbling thingamajigs. Others have their bubbles frozen in them, and Ezor goes collect a satchel of the smaller ones. Sometimes you gotta be proactive while stealthing, and these will make great distractions, besides being the perfect throwing size and weight!

(Later she will ask Theophania and Jevrem to _ explain _ this mathematheology thing to her, in small words -- They like explaining stuff, and it will distract them while Lotor looks for more interesting things.

Ezor isn't sure what those would be -- this place has the typical wide tech discrepancy of both a somewhat recent but long enough ago apocalypse that people have started scrounging up and repurposing the old, not recreatable tech, and of a world that had contact with a higher-developed civilization that gave them technology, but neither the means to recreate it nor any other cultural input for that matter. But apparently that's naturally-grown based on the weird quintessence readings Lotor was poring over the past three lunar rotations. Even Acxa peaced out from those one lunar rotation in.

Ezor opts to see if Zethrid has found anything interesting yet, instead.)

* * *

Three more successively more secret and untouched secret secret laboratories _ and _ a minecart ride over a river _ and _ two sleep cycles later, Theophania halts in her step. "We were supposed to be back already," she says as if the revelation had just hit her. "And none of you said anything!"

"What? Did you want to go help repair the Archimedes Mill?" Jevrem quips.

"Well, no," Theophania answers. "But Ezor and Zethrid and Lotor didn't say anything either!"

"Sometimes missions take longer," Ezor remarks with a shrug. "It's not like this is a _ Balmera _ or anything."

"A Balmera would have more guerrilla fighters taking potshots at us and more ways to the surface," Zethrid growls, almost wistful.

"Well, there was S-48-ALT--" Ezor starts, but interrupts herself when Zethrid raises a hand and scrunches up her face.

"Those are battle sounds, up ahead," she explains. "Charge ahead?"

"Get close, check who's battling whom first," Lotor immediately replies. "Ezor, go see what the situation is, we'll be right behind you."

"Yes, sir!"

Ezor salutes and sprints down the tunnel.

While each of his generals has her preferred weapon -- Zethrid her fists and blasters, Ezor her knives, Acxa her laser pistol -- they are trained and proficient in a wide array of arms. Knives, swords, energy and projectile weapons from precision size to 'incinerate everything that stands in your way', staves, hand-to-hand combat, the occasional improvised blunt object (mostly Ezor), the local varieties of actual deathrays (aim, fire, not that hard, and every spark tends to have at least one you can steal and point at them).

But they tend to stick to their signature weapons.

So when Lotor and Zethrid hear the unmistakable sound of a Galran blaster going off, Lotor tells Zethrid: "Go!" ("Yes, sir!") and draws his weapon in full run. Ezor can deal with a lot, but they lost Nilorak not too long ago and Lotor would rather not have to replace two empty posts at the same time.

(Theophania and Jevrem, only being heroes and not trained soldiers, keep up remarkably well.)

Lotor finds what looks to have been a stalemate recently but has since devolved into a bloody mess:

Three glibbery, amorphous masses, Ezor standing on the puddle remains of a fourth. (Do they reform? She ought to get away from there, especially since the others have targeted her)

The Princess Anevka and her attendants, one struck down, the others wounded, the princess holding a death ray at a man in a lab coat and plasma bubble shield.

"I'll never surrender! Neveaaaaaargh!"

Throwing knives are something wonderful, even if Lotor really prefers swords. But both go through anti-death ray-shields. This one hit the spark right in the leg.

(Zethrid, Theophania, and Jevrem have joined the fray below, going after the remaining amorphous masses. Head of the serpent first, though.)

The Princess Anevka gets there a moment earlier, and lifts the spark up by the neck. She's still got that dissonant smile on her face, and Lotor isn't quite sure if she is even capable of not smiling.

"By the law of Balan's Gap, acting as proxy of the law of the Wulfenbach Empire, I, Princess Anevka of Sturmhalten, hereby place you, Doctor Albert DeBill, under arrest for uncontrolled smuggling of controlled substances, murder of several citizens of Balan's Gap, crimes against science, evading arrest, and attacking a member of the Sturmhalten noble family. Call off your constructs."

"Y-you w-won't get away--" the Doctor DeBill starts, only to be drowned out by the sound of the Princess Anevka aiming the death ray behind herself and firing at the amorphous masses. From the cheering, one more is down at least.

"May I, Princess?" Lotor inquires.

The Princess Anevka replies after a pause: "No. He is in custody of Balan's Gap, and there is due procedure for this kind of thing."

"Even for the removal of knives? I am amazed by your adherence to protocol," Lotor deadpans.

"You are permitted to retrieve your weapon," Anevka responds, not even looking at him.

"Would you mind blood splatters on your suit, Princess?"

"Don't be droll. As I would be caught _ dead _ wearing this outfit again," she shoots back. The Doctor goes pale as Lotor removes the blade.

"What did you think I was offering?" he asks.

This time the Princess Anevka actually looks at him. "Make him scream? It's what I would've done."

Lotor shakes his head. "Alas, there is this treatise by one Friedrich Spee that torture distorts the response you get beyond salvaging. He sourced it back to the Norwegians, I believe."

Maybe the Princess Anevka really can't do anything but smile, for her expression does not change one bit.

"Really? How quaint. You have to do it right, that's the trick."

* * *

"Your presence here is quite the surprise, Princess Anevka. I did not take you for the type to actively hunt down criminals," Lotor remarks on the way back up.

"Oh, you know," the Princess Anevka replies, and waves off. "Change of scenery, see what the surrounding towns are up to, and then this cur here decides to book it, and excitable and responsible person that I am, follow. Assuredly you must be familiar with that string of events, Prince Lotor. Especially considering…"

She throws half a glance in the direction of Jevrem and Theophania, who are assisting in carrying the Princess Anevka's catafalque.

She continues: "But I thought you were in Beetleburg! How come you are so close to Balan's Gap?"

Question for a question, answer for an answer.

"We followed a trail of escape tunnels originating from Doctor Pataki's secret secret laboratory along further secret lairs and ended up here," Lotor replies, shrugging.

"Dear me," the Princess Anevka comments. "And Doctor DeBill decided to make a stand in the public secret laboratory instead of fleeing through the escape tunnels? Tch. Fool."


	4. The fourth meeting

Mechanicsburg is a finely crafted thing of beauty without any cracks to disappear into. At least not for them -- the locals move about, exchanging pleasantries in their thick accent, perfectly polite to tourists (even the ones sticking out, like Lotor and his crew), and then flow back into the undercurrent of the town. Something is both special and deeply unnerving about Mechanicsburg, and Lotor feels like he's standing on the edge of some vast, slumbering creature, full of secrets ripe for the taking.

Such a strange town, too. They have their specialities, of course, but nothing that would necessitate so many traders going out of their way to come to this place and make it the bustling trading hub that it is. It's out of everyone's way, nestled in the back end of a valley, a lone hill and ruined castle atop it in its centre.

The ruins of what was once the heart of an empire. It still pulses, as if asleep, the city's bones and flesh guarding and feeding off what pulls everyone here: The quintessence rift. Not that anyone here calls it that, but there's really no other way. The ruling family, the Lords and Ladies Heterodyne, just managed to harness it, is all.

Heterodyne. Warlords, mad creators, raiders. Not as long a history as the Galra, of course, but superficially similar -- where the Galra had one ruler for the past ten thousand Daibazaal solar rotations, the reigning Heterodyne changed every so often owing to the very short lifespan of the locals, and not all had the discipline or power necessary to hold the empire their predecessor had built.

(How much more was there to the stories of the Jäger? They _ met _ Jäger, they wouldn't look out of place among the Galra, but their demeanor was not what he would have expected from what the older locals of Beetleburg and other cities referred to as 'an unstoppable war machine, comprised of monsters fighting for the sake of fighting and crushing everything their Heterodyne wished them to'. (Wished, not ordered?) He'd expected to be impressed by them, and Zethrid had referred to them as worthy opponents, but there was not only a critical lack of discipline, but also seriousness. They were so much worse than Ezor, especially in groups. The Jäger never took anything seriously, it seemed.)

And then, the most recent generation. Eschewing the family tradition of war and conquest for a life of heroism and _ helping _ people. They are many years gone now, only a million stories and a statue in their town remain: "We'll be back, cancel the milk."

And then they never returned.

And yet people still are waiting for them, firm in their belief that they will, in fact, be back.

And yet people still love them.

It gives Lotor hope for his own plans. The changes he ambitions are miniscule in comparison to what the Heterodyne Boys had done. He doesn't plan on abandoning the loyal troops. Just to introduce even more people to them and make it a true place where birth does not matter, only what you accomplish.

There is merit to taking what you want. You need to be strong to survive.

(The assassin delegate Livia keeps insisting that the current sociopolitical climate is a precarious equilibrium and that he really needs to learn to actually navigate it. That's the reason he is even taking as much time and detours as he is -- she insists that if he pokes it too hard, it will devolve into a free-for-all with himself having the biggest target painted on his back, and at the moment he really doesn't want attention from the Galra Empire in this tendril of space, either. Not that he couldn't just use their spaceship to cut a swath of destruction through the lands, but with his current roster he can't herd the sparks enough to not wreck him the next time they stop by. Zethrid would've taken that as a challenge, and Lotor has seen and heard many other people gravely overestimating their capabilities and resources.

But Lotor has also seen sparkwork, and the way it twists the known laws of physics and hurt if he looks at it for too long. These people are irreverent, and it angers him no small amount.

* * *

  


  * There's quite a few people who mistake them for Jäger
  * It's all people who aren't native to Mechanicsburg
  * Something about the Jäger not being allowed back inside the walls until a Heterodyne is again in residence because of a deal with the Baron Wulfenbach
  * It gets annoying after a while
  * The youngsters learn very quickly not to try and pickpocket them and that's when even more of the residents of Mechanicsburg begin _watching_ them
  * Stealth mission: Failure
  * They somehow, against all odds, manage not to get themselves thrown out of the city
  * They also don't manage to get an _in_
  * Lotor has a fleeting moment of clarity and sensibility and doesn't try selling himself off as the Lost Heterodyne Heir
  * It would've been the logical next step, okay?
  * But he doesn't, and so he gets to live
  * And to decide that maybe he can _groom_ a potential heir? Maybe that's plan K-2, but sometimes you need a backup plan that has macerated a little bit.
  * But he's spent enough time here, time for a quick jump back into the Galra Empire and show Zarkon something shiny to distract him for another few solar rotations
  * That's when he meets Anevka the fourth time
  * There's a few things that are said
  * There's a lot that isn't
  * Anevka desperately wants to go with the Galra, but she has too much decorum to outright ask
  * Lotor is somewhat fascinated by her technology, but he has implied an offer already
  * Anevka knows very much that if she asks first, she'll be in his debt, and have no leverage, no bargaining chip, no position, nothing
  * But it'd get her away from Sturmhalten
  * Maybe she can kill her father on the way out, that would be nice.


End file.
